


Calm down. You're safe.

by MutatedMedicine



Category: Marble Hornets
Genre: Alex Kralie mentioned, Arson, Blood and Gore, Brian Thomas mentioned, Fear, Fire, Imagery, Implied Masky, Jay Merrick mentioned, Marble Hornets spoilers, Panic Attacks, Psychological Drama, Psychological Trauma, Smoking, Spoilers, Swearing, Tim is messed up, Wishing for death, i tried a new writing style, pill consumption, slight gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:48:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24096103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MutatedMedicine/pseuds/MutatedMedicine
Summary: Tim awoke in bathtub in a shitty hotel room.Relax. You're gonna be ok. Everything is fine.Is it?
Kudos: 16





	Calm down. You're safe.

**Author's Note:**

> This whole story started with the idea of Tim waking up in a bathtub in a random hotel room. When I asked for ideas, Joseph's discord suggested arson. This one is for you guys.
> 
> Big thanks to otters_den on Joseph's discord for helping me edit this ❤️

It was kinda cold. Why the hell was it so cold? It's June. Why is it so cold in June? Hell, what time is it? Tim pried his eyes open only to immediately close them. Too bright. Way too bright.

Tim brought a hand up to shield his eyes. He turned his head so he wouldn't have to run the risk of looking directly into the light. Maybe he was dead. If only.

Tim's head didn't move very far. His eyes were adjusted, but he still saw white. He felt cramped. Why was he cramped and cold? Maybe he was dead.

Tim decided the best thing to do was sit up. The worst case scenario would be he either bashed his skull on a coffin buried six feet under or he wouldn't be able to move. Might as well try.

His head didn't hit anything and he could still move. He could move everything: fingers, hands, wrists, legs, toes, muscles. Damn he wasn't dead, but he had no idea where he was. Tim rubbed his eyes. The world came into focus like a camera.

There was a lot of white, yellow...brown? Red. Wait red? Tile to the right. Small carpet to the left. White and yellow ahead. Same thing behind. Metal at his feet and head. Red almost everywhere. Oh. Was he in a bathtub?

Tim's brain started to fully operate. He was in a bathtub. He passed out in a bathtub. Who the fuck passes out in a bathtub. Tim placed his hands on the ledge of the tub and tried to stand. He didn't make it very far. Tim's legs buckled on the sudden weight. Why did they hurt? What did he do?

Tim weighed his options. His bad leg could just be acting up, he broke the other leg, or his legs just didn't want to work from being crammed into a bathtub. Or all of those happened. What day was it? Tim took a deep breath and tried again to no avail. Next option. Crawl.

Tim placed his hands on the tile floor outside of the tub. It was wet. It better be water. Tim pulled with no avail. Both of his hands slipped and his elbows hit the edge of the tub, losing complete function. Tim's mouth opened to scream, yell, anything, but there was no sound. Just like there was no sound in the horrible bathroom he was in. After cradling his arms to his chest and waiting out his pain, Tim tried again.

Hands planted. Elbows carefully positioned. One. Two. Three. Progress. Tim's body was now half in and half out of the tub. He wished it wasn't. There was blood on the floor. Blood on the door. Blood on the body of the sink. Blood on his hands.

"Oh no…" Tim gave one last pull and was completely out of the tub. Move one leg. One at a time. Tim successfully managed to get his legs under him and was sitting on his knees. One foot in front of the other. Stand. It's not hard. Assessment check. No phone. No wallet. No keys.

"Fuck," Tim huffed as he ran a hand through his hair. The blood on his hands was still there. Dried. This is a bathroom right? Where's the mirror. Where's the mirror? Where the fuck is the mirror. In front of you.

Tim, to put it simply, looked like total shit. Blood on his shirt. Beard grown out more than even he remembered. Hair grown out and wild and bloodied. His shirt was wrinkled, bloodied, and in total disarray. What the fuck happened. Who's blood was on his hands and all over the bathroom? He hoped it wasn't his, but at the same time he hoped it wasn't anyone else's. Get out. Get out of the bathroom Tim.

Tim rushed to the door and tried to open it. It wouldn't budge. Of course not. Why wouldn't it? Of course it's locked. Locked. Locked locked locked. Calm down. You're safe. Don't panic. It's a wooden door. Don't panic. You're safe. Calm down. Pills. Pills? Where are the pills? Where the fuck are the- oh. The door locks from the inside. Way to go jackass. 

Tim pushed the button to unlock the door and slowly opened it with clenched eyes. What would he see? Blood? A body? Alex? Jay? Brian? No, they're dead Tim. Get a grip. That thing? No, you don't hear static in your ears and you're not coughing. Jessica? You left her. Oh.

Hotel room. It's a hotel room. An unscathed hotel room that's completely clean with no blood and no body other than Tim's. The bed wasn't made. His things were on the table. At least he found his phone, wallet, and keys. That's a plus. Tim's eyes found the clock. It was two in the morning. There was no light in the room other than that of the lamp next to the bed. Ok. You're safe. Tim ran his hand through his hair and sat in the room's armchair.

"Think, Timothy think. What's the last thing you remember?" I don't know. "What day is it?" I don't know. "When's the last time you were at Rosswood?" I don't want to know. "Did you snap again?" Again? Probably. "Fuck." 

Tim rested his elbows on his knees and let out a long breath. He reached into his front jeans pocket for his carton of cigarettes and lighter. Was this a smoking room? Better be. Tim lit up and inhaled half of the stick in one go. Were his hands shaking? Probably. He needed some air.

Tim's room was on ground level, his car was parked right in front of his room. There was a pool in the middle of the hotel. Open, but closed at night time. When was the last time he went swimming? Not important. Tim finished his cigarette and lit up another as he watched the cars go by.

The cars were mesmerizing. The constant whoosh they made as they went by and the solid second of a recognizable song were something Tim could latch onto. He could hear the bass of the car radios in the distance and he tried to guess the song off the bass line and the solid second of an audible song. He wasn't too successful. He managed to guess a few songs here and there, but not the majority. He'd smoked and calmed himself down enough. Next order of business, how long is this room booked for.

Tim threw his cigarette on the concrete and crushed the embers with his heel. He turned to make his way to the front desk, only to turn back to his room and lock the door. Stop being paranoid. Everything is fine. Is it?

Tim ripped off his blood stained shirt and tried to asset his own damages. There were none. So this wasn't his blood.

"God damnit," Tim mumbled as he grabbed a random shirt from his bag and threw it on. His jeans were covered in blood. It was safe to assume that probably wasn't his either. He found a spare pair of jeans in his bag and threw them on. Tim washed the dried blood on his hands, grabbed his phone, wallet, car keys, and room key and made his way out the door.

The night was quiet, cool, and calm. Typical June night. There was the faint sound of televisions playing as he walked past other rooms. The sounds weren't as loud as Tim's feet on the concrete. Were his footsteps always that loud? He made it to the front desk without a problem. 

The glass doors opened quietly by themselves. Tim was greeted by the smell of coffee and a warmer temperature than outside. He rang the bell. Once. Twice.

"Excuse me," Tim called. With his luck there would be no one. It was almost 2:30 in the morning. "Hello?" No answer. Of course. Tim was about to make his way out of the small place that housed the front desk only to be stopped by a young woman.

"Hey, wait!" she called. "Sorry about that. The AC back there is quite noisy. What can I do for ya sweetheart?" This woman was too lively for it to be 2:30 in the morning. It was almost endearing.

"Uh, hi. My name is Tim Wright...could you tell me how long I have my room for?"

"Sure thing, hun," the woman then turned her attention to the computer. The thing looked so old that it shouldn't have been able to run. "Says here you're booked at room one until Friday. Anything else I can help you with?"

"No...thank you though," Tim replied sweetly, yet meekly.

"Anytime, sweetheart." And with that, Tim was gone. Back into the cold. Well, it wasn't that cold in June. But, what day was it? Tim made his way back to his room with only the sound of his own feet to keep him company.

Does the TV have cable? Yes. Good. Give me a date. Wednesday. It's now Wednesday at around 2:30 in the morning and he has to be out of here by Friday and he has nowhere to go. At least you have time. Not much. Check your phone.

Tim checked his phone. He didn't like what he saw. Twenty missed calls.

"Oh god have mercy…," Tim scrolled through his phone. So many missed calls from work, his doctor...Jessica? Call Jessica back. No. Not yet. Tim called his doctor first. On his private number. It didn't take long for his doctor to pick up.

"Tim, oh my god! I was so worried about you! Where have you been?!" Good question.

"Uh...how long has it been since you've heard from me?"

"Two weeks, Tim! Two weeks! I feared the worst!" Oh you have got to be kidding me.

"Hey, is it too late to ask for a refill?" Tim chuckled into the phone. His life definitely had been turned into a morbid joke. The other end was quiet.

"If you were anyone else Tim I'd say no. Yes you can. Where are you anyway?" Another great question.

"Some hotel I guess."

"Do you even know what town you're in?"

"What do you think?"

"Christ, Tim." Tim had been seeing the same doctor for so long, they'd been through so much of Tim's problems together. "Tim, I'm really glad you're becoming more open with me, but this is getting ridiculous." Tim mumbled several 'I knows' into the phone.

"The pills really do help, I swear...I just can't remember…" Tim stopped himself.

"Can't remember what, Tim?" He was afraid to answer.

"That's the thing. I don't remember what I'm supposed to remember." The other end of the phone was silent. 

"Tell you what. Come in as soon as you're able. We'll chat and get you some more pills, man. I don't want to do what you're thinking."

"That won't end well for anyone."

"I know. Get some sleep, Tim." The other end of the line went dead with static. The sound made Tim jump and throw the phone across the room. It landed on the bed with a soft thud. His heart was beating too fast. Calm down. You're safe. Am I? Call Jessica. No.

Nine of Tim's missed calls were from his job. Should he really call them back? He knew he didn't have a job. A part of him felt like calling. It was close to three in the morning. His boss was a night owl. Tim picked the phone up from off the bed and called back, heart racing. Calm down. You're safe. Really?

"Hello?"

"Hey, it's Tim."

"It's been awhile," Tim's boss didn't sound happy.

"Yeah...I don't have a job do I?" The other end was silent. Why was that response so common for him?

"I really want to yes, but no. Work has been really slow and everyone has just been volunteering for projects. You're not fired, but you're not getting paid." This was too reasonable. "When can you work?"

"In a week. I'm out of town for family." Tim's boss huffed into the receiver.

"I'll see you in a week then, Wright," Tim couldn't have been more relieved in his life.

"Will do. Thank you so much-"

"Don't mention it. Seriously. Don't mention it." And Tim's boss hung up without another word. You're lucky. I know. Call Jessica. No.

Tim stared at the phone in his hand. He should call Jessica, but he didn't want to. He wanted to stay away from her. Tim wanted to be as far away from Jessica as possible. He didn't want her to get dragged into this anymore than she already was. She didn't need to go through what he went through. Or Jay. Or Alex. Or Brian. Tim shuddered. But she called you. Shut up. She needs to know. She needs to run.

Tim called back. He didn't mean to. It was an accident. His heart was beating too fast. Tim thought it would beat out of his chest. Calm down. You're safe. No I am not.

"Hello? Tim?" The world seemed to stop. Everything was quiet.

"Hello? Tim? Can you hear me?"

"J-Jessica?"

"Who else?" At least she still had a small sense of humor.

"I saw you called? What's up?"

"Tim, I called you a week ago."

"Oh." Well shit. "Sorry, phone problems."

"Bullshit." Well then. "Where even are you, Tim?"

"Uh...a hotel?"

"Christ, Tim."

"You sound like my doctor."

"Tim, this is serious. Look, I'm having problems-"

"Oh hell no." He didn't mean to say that out loud.

"Excuse me?"

"No. I'm not helping you. Last time I tried helping someone with a problem with- with that thing they ended up dead!" He really didn't mean to say that.

"Wait what!"

"It doesn't matter! You just need to stay far away from me! Don't come near me, I won't come near you! You shouldn't even be calling me!" Tim's words were an overflow as they came out of his mouth.

"Tim please!"

"No! I'm not going through all that shit again!" Tim was about to hang up the phone-

"It's back!" Tim's finger moved away from the cancel button on his phone.

"What?"

"It's back." Oh no. No. No no no nononono. This wasn't happening. It was gone. Gone. Gone gone gone gonegonegone. He got rid of it. He was doing fine! He was doing better! The pills were working! No they weren't. Not until now. Stop lying.

"What do you mean 'it's back'?" Tim's hands were shaking. Even though he was shaking, he still managed to bite his nails.

"I'm losing memories again, Tim. I just lost my job-"

"Jessica. Listen to me. Keep taking those pills and don't talk to me. I'll talk to you. I'll call you in a week. I'm coming home only to work. As soon as I get the chance I'm quitting and leaving and never coming back. Don't go to Rosswood. Understand?"

"I-I think so. But I have so many ques-"

"Good." Tim hung up. He took a deep breath and let it out shakily. His hands were still shaking. His body was shaking. Tim dropped the phone into the carpet. No. No no no this can't be happening. It's not happening. No. It's not real. It's not real it's not real not real not real. Pills. Where are the pills? Where the fuck are the pills?! I need them. I need them now!

Tim frantically searched the entire hotel room. Bathroom? No. Pockets? No. Stand? No. Table? No. Pockets? No. You checked there. Bag? Where in the bag? Side pocket? No. Other side pocket? No. Main compartment? Yes. Tim quickly tried to pry off the cap. Damned child proof caps. He eventually got it off and swallowed more pills than what was actually necessary. Calm down. You're safe. If you say so.

"I need a smoke." No you don't. Yes I do. No you don't. Yes I do. Check your bag. Tim checked his bag and wished he hadn't. That stupid mask. That damn mask caused so many problems. Wait. Why is it here? It wasn't there a second ago! Don't worry about it. I will! Tim pushed himself up against the wall, trying to get as far away from the mask as he could.

"No... you're not real. You're not real. I threw you away." Put it on. No. Yes.

Tim started coughing. Tim started coughing a lot. Too much. Way too much. That sounds painful. Is that blood? Blood. Blood? Oh no. I hear static. I taste static. 

Tim's knees hit the carpet. Hard. At least it wasn't concrete. Fuck concrete. That hurts. My knees hurt. Why do I hurt?

Tim wasn't breathing. Can't breathe. No air. Air. Air? Need air. Need lots of air. Where are my hands? On the bed? On the carpet? The world is spinning. Why is it spinning? Am I dying? I'm finally dying.

Tim lost consciousness.

He woke up in a forest. Sit up. Get up. Two steps forward. This is an abandoned building. It's cold here. The walls are falling and the ceiling is caving. That could kill me. Two steps backwards. A tower. It's red. It's small. Is this a fire tower? Two steps to the right. It's dark here. There's some light over there. There's some rocks. Some flowers. Is that blood on the concrete? Is this a tunnel? Two steps to the left. A building? There's a bullet hole in the ceiling. Why are there so many planks. Mistep and fall down the stairs. Concrete? Planks? Stone walls. There's a block of cement with some blood on it. Why does it hurt to look at? 

Tim woke up. It was hot. Why was it so hot? Sit up. No it's cooler down here. Sit up. Tim sat up. 

"Oh god…" Tim awoke in the same bathtub as he did, yesterday? He hoped it was yesterday. He was covered in blood again. There was even more blood in the bathroom. Tim pulled himself out of the bathtub and unlocked the bathroom door, purposely avoiding the mirror. The room was exactly how he left it. Check the clock. It was ten in the morning. What day is it? Check the date through the cable. Same day. At least he wasn't out for two weeks. Check your stuff. It's all there. No mask. Thank God. Tim needed a cigarette.

Tim went to go outside, only to turn around before he even reached the door. He was covered in blood, he couldn't walk outside like this. He'll just smoke in the room. He didn't feel like changing just yet. He was tired. Really tired. Was this a smoking room? It is now. Turn on the TV. 

Tim sat on the bed and turned on the TV. The first channel was the news station. Fire. Tim saw a lot of fire. The anchor described an apartment complex that burned to the ground last night. Tim turned off the TV. Too many memories. What to do today? Nothing. Cleaning.

The best, and nicest, thing to do would be to clean the blood out of the bathroom. He didn't want to have to explain where there was so much blood. It didn't help that he didn't even know the answer. Tim didn't want to know the answer. He began to scrub. He wasn't very successful. Tim gave up rather quickly.

Why is it still so hot? It was cooler last night. Was the AC even on? Tim checked. It was.

"What the-" Something snapped. What snapped? Wood? A beam? Bones. Ow. That's painful. Painful. Painful painful painfulpainfulpainful. Calm down. You're safe. I don't feel safe. Something cracked. What cracked. Metal on metal? Metal on concrete. Ow. God that would be hot. Hot. Hot hot hothothot. Calm down. You're safe. Am I ever? Something popped. What popped. What goes snap, crackle, pop? Why is it so hot?

"Oh no…" Tim rushed to open the door to his hotel room and was greeted by flames. The flames danced around the entire hotel. His car was completely destroyed. At least, it looked destroyed through the sparks. Something exploded and Tim immediately shut the door. He could hear a car alarm going off.

"No. No. No no no nononono. This isn't happening. This can't be happening! You're gone. You're gone! You're not real! You don't exist! This isn't real! Those flames aren't real!" Tim was screaming to nothing. There was nothing in the room but him and his things. The hotel room's window exploded. Tim covered his face with his arms.

The flames were getting closer. Closer. Closer closer closer. They snaked through the windows and jumped on the bed. They were going for the door. They opened the door to let their friends come in. Tim ran. Tim ran for the bathroom and locked the door. Locked. It's locked. You can't hurt me. He was shaking. Shaking violently. He needed his pills. He was out. He needed a refill. Doctor's office. Go to the doctor's office. Can I even afford it? Get money. Job. Work. Go to work. Not until next week. Jessica. Take hers. Never. Jessica. Wait. Jessica. Jessica! 

There's blood on the floor. It's in the bathtub. It's on the sink. It's on the mirror. The mirror. The mirror mirror mirror. Look in the mirror. No. Tim didn't see his face. He saw a mask. A white mask with black lips and eyes. No. Your fault. It's your fault. It's all your fault this is happening. No it is not. Stop lying. Tim ripped off the mask.

It hurt to rip off the mask. Did he claw himself? Probably. It didn't matter. Tim unlocked the bathroom door and threw the mask to the flames. Let them play with it. Tim locked the door again. Lock it. Lock it lock it lock it. Faster faster faster Tim. Tim was shaking uncontrollably. He stumbled backwards and his knees buckled, sending him back into the bathtub. He dragged his hands down his face. Wet? Why is his face wet. Sweat? Blood? Tears? Sea? Ocean? Drowning.

Tim was in the river. It was cold. It was freezing. Better than hot and burning. I can't breathe. Air. Air air air. I need it. I need it I need it I need it I can't breathe help me I can't breathe help me help help me. Stop. Breathe. I can't. Then suffer. Choke. Choke choke choke. No!

Tim's face resurfaced and he could finally breathe again. His lungs were on fire. Fire? Burn.

Tim was back in the bathtub. The flames ate their way through the door. They stood around the bathroom. Some leaned against the sink. Some sat on the toilet seat. They all looked at Tim.

"What do you want from me!" 

"Nothing," they said. It was honest. They didn't want him. Something else did.

"We want nothing from you. We want you to feel nothing. No freezing. No burning. No pain. Nothing." One of the flames threw a box of cigarettes to Tim. The box was on fire, but it didn't bother Tim at all. He stuck one of the sticks in his mouth. It lit by itself. Tim didn't know what to think anymore. Could he even think? Was his brain boiled? Did he even have a brain?

Who was the woman he talked to? She was too energetic. Oh the lady at the front desk. He felt bad about the hotel burning. Who was the other girl. Through the phone, her voice. I heard her voice through the phone. Tim could almost hear it. What was her name. Jessica. Jessica? Jessica! Who?

Tim Wright sat smoking in a bathtub in a room on fire. The walls fell around him. His pants were on fire. Then his chest. His arms. His skin. His hair. It didn't hurt. Tim was melting as he smoked. He finished off his cigarette and put another in his mouth. It was immediately lit. Bones were what held the cigarette at this point. Maybe he was finally dying.

"I am calm. I am safe."

"Indeed you are, Timothy."

Tim inhaled the last of his cigarette and blew it out as the back wall fell on top of him.

It was kinda cold. Why was it so cold in June?


End file.
